


None Of My Business

by markipwiwer



Series: Tumblr Requests [84]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Casual Alcoholism, Chronic Pain, M/M, This is basically just a long shit post, interesting uses of the tongue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17173478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: “I bet Anti is equally as confused about Wilford’s inability to use straws as we are. Im thinking like, Anti: “watching you’re tongue is possibly the worst thing I’ve ever seen”  Wilford: “you weren’t saying that last night, but that’s not my business” *tries to take a sip of tea but still fails*”- Anonymous





	None Of My Business

Despite his powers, warping space and time, hopping through alternate dimensions and ruling a couple of small ones himself, his teleportation, dream invading, mind reading, and just generally whatever was convenient for the fucking plot that day, Wilford struggled with some of the most basic and menial tasks known to human and non-human kind.

It wasn’t like he had any extra limbs to manage and he was a fantastic marksman so theoretically speaking he should have had great hand-eye coordination. But it just... didn’t apply in the real world.

Wilford Motherlovin’ Warfstache couldn’t drink with a straw to save his motherlovin’ life.

He was having gin for breakfast again. Anti suspected Wilfords drinking habits came from trying to self medicate his chronic pains, but honestly it was hard to tell the difference between drunk and sober Wilford so it didn’t matter too much.

Why he couldn’t have a coffee with Baileys or something even slightly breakfast-y was a mystery but... whatever. Anti wasn’t one to judge. He ate batteries.

But the way Wilford was drinking was distracting. He was scrunching up his face in concentration, darting his tongue in and out, trying to capture the small straw sticking out from his martini glass.

Anti had to repress the urge to roll his eyes and just yell about the fact that Wilford was using a martini glass at 8am.

It was shocking that, despite being attracted to women as well as men and anything else with a pulse and the ability to give consent, Wilford was the gayest man Anti had ever known to grace the Earth. He was just... so much.

Anti had the most dead, dumbfounded look plastered on his face when Wilford finally looked up from the apparent puzzle that was his beverage.

“Ah, Anti! Good morning to you!”

Anti stared still.

“Wilf, uh... ye need a hand, there?”

“Hmm?”

Wilford looked as confused as Anti for a moment.

“Ye seem to be strugglin’ with ye drink there.”

Wilford looked down at his drink, and then back up at Anti.

“Is it poisoned? Did you poison my drink?”

“What?! No, dude, it’s just that watching ye try to use yer tongue with that thing is just fucking...”

Wilford cocked an eyebrow.

“Arousing?”

“Infuriating.”

“Really? Because that’s certainly not the impression I got last night.”

Anti groaned and glitched out of the room, while Wilford wore the most shit-eating grin. Then he got back to his drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you got an idea or a request for a fic? Come shoot me a message at markipwiwer.tumblr.com!
> 
> If you like what I do, please consider supporting me at www.ko-fi.com/markipwiwer!


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